The Hunger Games: Firework
by CynderPikachu
Summary: What would have happened if, while travelling to the Capitol in 'Mockingjay', Katniss Everdeen's vehicle was bombed by the Capitol? This tells the story of twelve-year-old Gardenia Bartini, a tribute from District Eleven chosen in the fourth Quarter Quell. She is in a family of nine and lives in a poor part of her district. Can she survive the Hunger Games?
1. Chapter 1

**Part One: The Reaping**

1

I awake to the noise of someone lightly tapping on my dusty, tiny window. District 11 doesn't have very good windows; it's hard to put glass in straw huts.

I sit up on my scratchy mat and rub my eyes. By this time most residents of the Flower Trail, which is what we call this area, would be in the fields and orchards. I would be sorting fruit in the orchard until nightfall, when I climb the tallest tree and pluck the best fruit that only grows at the top. I'm very good at it; I can do what is known as the 'monkey dance', when you look like you're running across trees. The knocking comes again. Opening the rough cotton curtain, I see the dark faces of Taegan and Prue, my best friends. Taegan is the same age as me than me and Prue is two years older; this is Taegan's first reaping. It is mine too. I get up and pull a purple coat over my white shirt and spotty skirt that I accidentally slept in. Sliding my feet into the pale grey boots that qualify as matching my skirt, I open the door quietly as so not to wake my siblings.

"Hey, Gardenia." Prue says. "Taegan can't sleep. We should go play fruit slice."

"We shouldn't risk it. There are Capitol-goers everywhere. Anything else she likes?" By rights, we could be whipped for playing fruit slice. But most children in District Eleven play it anyway. There aren't many ways to entertain yourself here. I've been whipped once and I'm not too keen to be whipped again.

"Hopsc-sc-scotch." stammers Taegan in a tiny voice. Prue puts her arm around her.

"Okay, sis, let's play hopscotch." she soothes. We choose an extra-long road of bricks and start leaping. If I can monkey dance, this is nothing. But it's fun. For my benefit, Prue uses a stone to scratch a small circle in the middle of each square.

"Hop on those, Dee-nee."

Dee-nee. My nickname. It came from when Prue was seven and couldn't say 'Gardenia', saying 'dee-nee' instead. It sort of stuck.

I leap, landing on tiptoe on each circle. We do this for hours until a gonging bell sounds. Taegan's face turns white and she starts sobbing. Prue reassures her; I wave and leap from brick to brick away, to my family. Mum feeds me a bit of melon and hugs me tight. The odds are not in my favour, with my name entered twice mandatory, and eighteen more for the tesserae. That makes twenty entries. It's not too bad, compared to Sage, a sixteen-year old who has a family of twelve. Plus her five mandatory entries, she's in one hundred and ninety-seven times. Owch.

The reaping system is so much more unfair here than in other districts. There are one hundred sacks. You spread your name and tesserae between the four and if a sack with your name in it is chosen, then your name goes in the reaping balls. If the majority of the members of a sack want to volunteer, then that sack goes in instead. It barely ever happens. Being reaped is a horror no one wants to face. I was in the thirty-eighth bag. So were four of my siblings, along with Prue and Taegan.

A white-suited Peacekeeper takes me by the arm, and I realise everyone else is in the rope squares. Mum looks like she might faint, dad look like he's going to puke. The Peacekeeper practically throws me into the thirteen-year-old section. As always, Petunia Welsh, our reaper, is trilling how lovely District Eleven is. Yeah, right. Capitol people don't consider fruit trees and vegetable bushes 'lovely.'

She beckons Turelian Zhang, our mayor. Adenah Lauren, the female victor from about five years back, sits beside him. She won entirely by chance. Adenah won by outliving all the other tributes when they shoved her off a cliff. She was hurt, but she landed on a ledge too far down to return upwards and was forgotten about, so she ate what she could find and waited for the others to die. Even now she's missing half her innards from when she cut herself on the rocks.

The aging mayor stands and begins to ramble about the Dark Days, and more importantly, the War of the Mockingjay from only twenty-five years ago. I can see most of the girls tune out. In fact, so do I. I hum a song that I normally sing to the mockingjays in the orchard when I see the quitting time flag, an age-old tradition. Through a haze I see Petunia reaching into a glass ball. Only one thing could snap me from my daze. And she says it.

"Gardenia Bartini."


	2. Chapter 2

2

I feel as if a talon has reached into me and yanked out my stomach. The other kids step away, as if I have some sort of disease or something. I see the devastated look on Prue and Taegan's faces, and a few other girls. My brother Loki is in tears. Kyra, my second eldest sister is torn, probably between her family devotion and the primeval fear from 100 years ago, when the Games started. I walk in stiff steps, but my brain is still saying '_hmm. I feel sorry for that girl who got reaped' _as always. I haven't registered that I am heading to almost certain death. My mind flashes to the reading of the Quarter Quell card. President Snow, well into his eighties by now, reads out "_For this year's Quarter Quell, to commemorate that the rebels efforts hurt themselves more than the Capitol with their efforts, this year's tributes will also receive parachutes containing sabotaged gifts along with the ordinary sponsor's gifts."_

Now Petunia is reaching into the boys' reaping ball. She tears a slip free then reads the name.

"Alexei Kotzebuea!"she yells. I half open my mouth in surprise and burst into tears. Just my luck. I've got to fight a boy I am related to. He's my cousin. He tromps through the crowd slowly. A Peacekeeper shoves him forward and I rush off the stage and catch him as he stumbles. The same Peacekeeper slaps me on the arm and my mother howls, tears pouring like the spring rains. Dad has vanished. I take Alexei to the stage. He is thirteen, a year older than me. Adenah puts her arm around Alexei's and my shoulders. She is very soft-faced, and she reminds me a lot of my mother. The ceremony is finished and Adenah steers me into the Justice building. I feel hollow. Just as we enter, I catch a glimpse of myself on the screens. My long black hair is flowing down my shoulders. My dark skin seems to glow with the sun reflecting off my sweat. We go into the visitor's room and my mentor leaves. Almost immediately, Mum and my six siblings barge in, followed by dad. A massive group hug follows, punctuated with sobbing.

"Listen, mum." I say. "You and dad have to stay strong. Keep up the work in the orchard and the sewing, maybe you'll earn enough to stop them from getting tesserae. You saw what happened to me; you can't let it happen to them, okay?" She nods and I bury my face in her shoulder. The Peacekeepers usher them out and are replaced by Prue and Taegan. Prue strides forward and hugs me tight. Tears streaking her face, she puts her hands on my shoulders. Taegan mutely hugs me.

"Listen, Dee-nee." Prue says. "Wear this. It was supposed to be for your birthday, but..." she trails off. We both know I'll never see it. In her palm is a necklace, a simple black cord with a silver circle on it. Inside the circle is a sculpted yet flat mockingjay. The silver charm must have cost a fortune.

"Thank you." I whisper hoarsely.

"It's your district token." She turns to leave as the Peacekeepers knock. "Mockingjays hunt vermin, Gardenia. You should do the same."

She takes Taegan by the arm and leads her out.

I am shepherded onto the platform in the station and I follow Alexei onto the train.


	3. Chapter 3

3

We are halfway to the Capitol. Lunch is a strange pastry bowl with a lid piled high with mashed sweet potato somehow shaped into a tall spindly mushroom shape. The cap of the shape is covered in chives, making it look a bit like a tree.

"One of my favourites. Mmm, pie." says Adenah cheerfully. She digs in but I just stare at mine. This is despicable. At home we are lucky if we find a small tuft of wild chives. A potato is something only the rich can afford. I don't think I've ever even seen this pastry bowl called a pie. I pull the top off and see it is filled with meat. It's definitely not groosling. I've only ever heard of cow meat, which I think is called beef. This is probably it. Suddenly I'm really hungry. I spear a piece of beef and stick it in my mouth.

Oh my God! I practically shriek. It's the best thing I've ever tasted. Food is generally vegetables with a piece of fruit, usually cantaloupe, but if we're lucky we'll get mangoes, mmm! Sometimes I'll get a little groosling. This is a feast! Why can't they give us just a little of this at home? So many die of starvation in my district.

I dig in as Adenah begins to talk to Alexei about back home. When she jokingly asks if he has a girlfriend, he answers yes. I excuse myself and go to the designated room. The rocking of the train gently sends me to sleep.

I dream of my tenth brother, Ash. I cut fruit from the branches and hand them to him. He hands them to someone else below him. Suddenly I drop my knife, and as he looks up it drives deep into his hand. I scream as he plummets and snaps his spine on the ground. The trees turn to stone and I am running through the arena, a scary craggy place with next to no water. I scramble through the spires of scraggy rock, fleeing a faceless hound-like mutt spitting blood at me. Alexei is by my side, but he trips and I scream as the mutt devours him. I stumble forward, and now the blood being spat belongs to Alexei. I skid to a halt as I encounter a cliff. Turning back around, I have just enough time to see the mutt leaping at me before it sinks five-inch-long fangs into my throat. Blood sprays into my face, but its ice cold.

I scream myself awake, finding myself on the floor beside my bed, a shard of broken glass caught in my neck. Lucky it isn't too deep, but it must have been that which caused the agony of the bite in my dream. The strange cold blood would have been the water in the cup the shard came from. I must have rolled and knocked it over. I don't pull out the glass because it will bleed, but I stumble in the dark of the night to Adenah's compartment. I shake her gently awake and she sits bolt upright, her tawny eyes almost glowing in the dark. Taking in my wound, she seems to understand as she takes me to get medical supplies. While she bandages it, we talk.

"It was the nightmares, wasn't it, honey," says Adenah.

"Yes. I dreamt that the arena was all rocky and Alexei and I were running away from a mutt. He tripped and ...,"

I become aware that I am shaking.

"so I kept running, but there was a cliff and it got me, too." Tears were running down my face. She hugs me and says "It's the same for every tribute, except perhaps the Careers. I had one too, the first night on the train. I dreamt that I was being chased by another tribute through jungle. They never really go away, honey. The Hunger Games never really go away."


	4. Chapter 4

4

"Yeee-ow!" I screech as a strip of something very hot is torn off my leg, taking three quarters of my leg hair with it.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" trills Taura, a pencil-thin woman with vibrant blue hair and magenta spirals inlaid on every visible bit of skin. Her eyes are a brilliant purple. She pauses every three seconds to reapply her fluorescent orange lipstick. She has such a stupid accent that I have to laugh, to which a middle aged woman named Dareen smiles.

"See! It's not that bad." she says in the same accent, which makes me laugh harder. Aqua, another member of my prep team, shakes her head and smiles. Aqua has crazy cat whiskers and three triangular stripes on her forehead. What inspired her to do that, I'll never know. With a final few plucks with tweezers they leave the room. A man I assume is my stylist enters. He appears to actually be young, unlike the majority of the stylists who do their best to look it but aren't young at all. He has shoulder length hair that is only dyed a few shades lighter than it would be naturally, I can tell by the roots. He wears horn-rimmed glasses in a curious shade of green and has a small gemstone on his forehead. Apart from this, he looks completely normal.

"Hello, I'm Elliot." He says. "You would have to be Gardenia." His accent seems muted, less pronounced. He looks a bit like the District Four victor from three years ago. I nod.

"Nice to meet you." I say. And I mean it.

After a quick inspection he lets me put on the simple shift I was allowed to wear every now and then during the remake. I'm glad to cover up my body. It felt a little invasive.

A few hours later I am dressed in the most beautiful costume I have ever seen. The brown dress- the same colour as my skin- reaches down to my thighs, pinched at the waist and flared at the bottom like roots. The sleeves are long but ten centimetres from the end of them they turn a gorgeous green and have long trails about two metres long patterned with leaves. I'm wearing red gloves that have red fabric balls representing fruit sewn to the back. Every now and them, one is made of toughened plastic and will glow red when I turn them on. My hair is pinned in a Y-shape at the back secured with a red pin. A leafy headdress adorns my head, with the headband part covered with the same fabric balls as my gloves, and they too have some that will glow. Long green hair extensions flow through my black hair. I am wearing tights that change shades of brown through it. My tall boots are the same, seeming to change just like layers of dirt, but at my ankles they turn ashy black and the soles are made of a gel-like substance that glows magma-orange. I look stunning. Elliot smiles and flicks the switch. The tiara throws a light on my face, highlighting the emerald make-up. On one cheek Elliot has painted a leaf in mid-fall. His hand is so steady it reminds me of the artist two doors down in the Flower Trail. He leads me to a carriage with a silver _11_ on the side. Two horses the colour of straw are hooked up to it. Alexei is wearing a tunic like my dress. The only difference is that his gloves and the small fabric balls on his headdress are blue. We mount the chariot just as the massive Remake Centre doors open. District 1 rolls out, in silver jumpsuits. I take a deep breath and we roll into the blinding lights of the bright Capitol.


	5. Chapter 5

5

The week of training flashes past. I try my hand at swords, which I stink at, spear throwing, which I am even worse at, knife throwing, which I'm not too bad at, and archery, which surprisingly I am pretty good at, as long as I don't have to shoot too far. I try out the camouflage station and get sidetracked, painting an owl on my hand, which gets me in trouble. The instructor seems impressed with the quality, though, and suggests art as my talent if I survive. If.

Since I'm so good at archery, I do it in my private session with the Gamemakers. I sing a song while I'm at it by force of habit, which earns me bonus points as well as perfecting my aim. It's like fruit slice. The less you focus the better you do. I think they liked my moxie. I pull a ten, which is good! Even Boris, the giant boy from District 1 only got an eleven. I have my eye on the girl from twelve, a brown-haired girl named Myrae, who's a whiz at bo-staffs. She's a prime example of typical District Twelve behaviour, her lack of confidence when she is actually quite good at it. District Twelve was actually destroyed by the Capitol in the War of the Mockingjay, but the Capitol needed the coal so badly they didn't kill the survivors of Twelve and Thirteen, instead placed them back in Twelve to mine. I waved hello to Myrae a few times, and always got a "Hiya, District Eleven" in return. She seems laid back despite her lack of confidence. I like her.

A clapping brings me back to the present. I tremble as I wait for my interview to begin. Backstage I am in a pretty, grey dress made from long, plumed feathers. My arms are now wings, with extra long feathers fanning out. A few tawny brown streaks are mixed in, especially on the long, wing-like sleeves. My dress is short at the front but has a feathery fan at the back like a bird's tail. I'm wearing tights covered with a scaly material in a pale pinkish colour. A headband with feathers sticking up on it is on my head. I have a small eye-mask that's a deep blackish grey with tan streaks. I am dressed as a bird because of my necklace. The silver charm sits on my chest. I almost fall asleep because this dress is so soft. Before I know it, it is my go.

"Everyone, may we please welcome Gardenia Bartini to the stage!" yells Nate Creyan, the announcer. He's brilliant. He makes every tribute shine. I crouch on my tip-toes like I am perched, just like Elliot said. The crowd goes silent. I spy myself in a screen and I look pretty good.

"So, Gardenia." says Nate, still thunderstruck by my outfit. "You're from District Eleven. Tell me, how many in your family?"

"Nine, Nate." I reply. The crowd gasps and I laugh. "That's nothing! The all-time record is thirty-seven!" There are yells of shock and I think someone faints.

"How do you support families that are so big?"

"We take up professions. There's an agreement in the Flower Trail, which is where I live. If someone has already chosen, say, weaving, then any newcomers either choose something else or join with that family."

"What does your family do?"

"Mum, my six elder siblings and I all do sewing. Mum's great at dresses and skirts, my sister Kyra is good at shirts and pants, and the rest of us normally stitch the flowers and stuff on."

"That's interesting. So, tell me, what inspired your stylist for the bird look?"

"Well, my best friend Prue gave me a necklace with a mockingjay on it as my token," I hold it out and the cameras focus on it. "and Elliot thought I should dress up as one. Not only are they my favourite animal, but I monkey dance like I am flying."

"Monkey dance?"

"It's when we jump from tree to tree silently."

"Hmm, we have noticed that in previous years your tributes tend to do that."

"Yep!" I smile.

"So what's your strength, Gardenia?"

"I'm fast, and a lot smarter than my twenty-three stupid counterparts!" I laugh.

The buzzer goes.

"Well, best of luck, Gardenia, and thanks for your time!" I bow then lift my arms like Elliot said. I spring from my crouching position and monkey dance across the chairs and decorations. It's a bit unorthodox, but it shows promise. While I monkey dance, an effect triggered when I bowed takes place. Small gardenia flowers and maple leaves spin from my wings in my wake. The Capitol people are all too stupid to know the difference between gardenia leaves and maple leaves, so I'm good there. I give one last secretive smile and whisk offstage, leaving a few leaves and a lone feather in my wake.

I sleep for only a few hours on the eve of the Games. Even with the meditation fountain, I'm too riled up to sleep much. When I do sleep, I dream of hundreds of ways I could die.

In the morning I stuff myself with food, even though I don't want to eat. I take a shower and absently press buttons, ending up feeling like someone gurney-ed my skin. Oh well, at least I'm clean.

I'm given underclothes to wear and I am taken to the launch site. A fat man injects a metal tracker into my arm.

When we arrive, Elliot opens a package to find a deep olive-green dress with a burgundy belt, which has some odd diamond-shaped studs ringing around it.

"Elliot, what are these studs for?" I ask.

"I would say they are for clipping weapons onto."

I dress and lean over Elliot's shoulder to see him ruminating over which hairclip I should wear. I notice how blunt and fat the clip parts are, to stop us using them as weapons. He eventually decides on a leaf for one side and a burgundy flower for the other. We sit in silence waiting. Eventually a robotic voice announces that it's time for the launch. I step in. Elliot hangs the silver mockingjay around my neck and smiles. He kisses my hand and the tube closes. He mouths something I can't hear. He mouths it again. This time I understand. _Good luck. _

I am whisked into the arena.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part II**

**The Golden Horn**

6

I look around at the landscape. Rain whips into my face. A golden horn, the Cornucopia, spears its tail into the air. About forty metres away and about two metres from the Cornucopia is where the jungle meets the grassy plain. There are lakes scattered everywhere. A tribute yells out and puts a hand over his eyes. I put two and two together and realise that the rain will injure my eyes. Most other tributes realise this too. The gong sounds and my feet tear off before my mind knows what to do. I've just snatched a white backpack when I spot it. A wooden bow, gleaming, a silver pattern on it. It's already been strung. The quiver hooks onto the belts, by the looks of it, on the back. The quiver is rectangular and on side has clips with a round hole in them. For the studs to click into, I presume. If I had that bow, I could win. A flash registers and I turn and twist out of the way, but not enough. Two knives spin toward me, sun glinting off of them. Everything goes slower. One falls half a revolution short, and the handle thunks into my arm. That'll leave a bruise, big whoop. The second one misses my chest, but hits my hand. When the knife takes my smallest finger off at the base, I feel only cold. No pain. It's like someone's pressing dry ice really hard against it. Red soaks my hand in seconds. I slip over in a wet patch of mud and slam to the ground in front of some kind of flower. One whiff of the pollen makes me sneeze, which is lucky because the jerk of my head means that the tomahawk that surely would have stabbed through my skull spins past me instead. Almost immediately, the District Eight boy snatches it up, only to be killed instantly by the spear hurled by the District Two girl, Agata. I want the bow so badly, but the killing spree going strong convinces me it's a bad idea. Even I, the District Eleven tribute going only for a backpack, was targeted by at least two people. I sprint away into the jungle and immediately climb a tree, monkey dancing until I find a cave I can hide in. I look through the white backpack. Inside there is a thin metal knife also with the clips for the studs, a pouch with a stud-clip, which is helpful, a medical kit, a packet of muesli, a length of elastic, a needle and thread, which is useless, a set of protective goggles, a small bag containing three adhesive clips like the ones on my knife, a pair of gloves, a small pack of dried meat and a water bottle that will carry two litres. I sigh and a yellowy-feathered bird, attracted by the echoing noise, weaves through the passage and into my cave. It sees me and we look at each other for a while. I reach into my bag for the medi-kit to see if there's anything that will help my finger, because now that the adrenaline's gone it's really starting to hurt, when the cannons go off. _Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! _Ten dead at the Cornucopia. Ten less for me to fight. I look back at the bird and nearly have a heart attack. The booming of the cannon has set it off and claws six inches long are sliding out of its stubby toes, three on each foot. All its feathers arc right up and its pupils dilate. It shrieks at me and swoops. This is no ordinary bird. It's a muttation. I still have my hand in my backpack, and my fingers close around the knife in there. I slash with it, taking off a tail feather. It screeches and flies back at me. I hurl my knife and close my eyes, expecting the talons to stab into me. Instead I hear a squeaky gasp and a clank. Peeking out, I realise that my knife severed the bird's head. It's lying on the ground. That's the good news. The bad news is that my only weapon, the knife, has bent upon impact on the cave wall. The metal was too thin to withstand the impact. An idea springs into my head. Going up to the mutt, I pull the claws on one foot out one by one. Now I have three knives. I grip one by where it came out of the foot, where it's smooth. I use one claw to gouge markings of where I shouldn't put my fingers past. I eat a small tablet from the medi-kit that is supposed to numb pain, bandage my finger with some gauze, pack the backpack, slide two claws into my belt and, slipping on my goggles and gripping one claw in my left hand, leave to search for clean water, the rain whipping my face.


	7. Chapter 7

7

I am aware that my green dress is doing a good job on most of my body, but my fingers are blue with cold. I climb up a tree and snap off a Y-shaped branch, using the elastic to make a slingshot. I take out one of the adhesive stud clips and push it against the handle of the slingshot. The glue seals to the wood and no matter how hard I pull, it won't come off. I click it onto the studs on my belt. Before I climb down, I pull out my gloves and slide them on, feeling disgusted at how the right smallest finger part flops. Then I grab the pouch and, sliding down the tree and watching for splinters, I fill it full with stones and clip it to my belt next to my sling with a soft click. I pull experimentally and find that it won't come off unless you twist it 180 degrees to the left while pulling. Handy. I trudge on, searching for water still, half asleep and drenched, to find myself at the edge of the forest near the Cornucopia's tail. The Careers, including Boris, Agata, both from Two, the girl from three and one from Four, are arguing over a rather impressive sword. I climb a tree near the tail and spot the bow. It's lying to one side, discarded. I might grab it, but the Careers are too close. I retreat and start fantasising about some of those wonderful comforts the Capitol offered, and even the odd turkey from those suicidal enough to hunt in my district. It's incredibly hard, as the fence is so very tall, electrified and ringed with barbed wire. You have to climb the fence with thick rubber gloves and rubber-soled shoes while the guards aren't looking. I turn and run back into the forest.

I spot a scrawny groosling in a tree, and open my pouch, remove a stone and shoot at it with the slingshot, spinning it to gather momentum then flicking it in the direction of the bird. To my glee, it hits, which means I have dinner! I stuff the groosling in my pack and eat a little muesli from my packet instead. The sky turns dusky grey and I scoot up a tree and secure myself on a wide bough. I can see the sky, so I can see the reports which should come any second. I'm just dozing off when the anthem blares. One of those mutt birds is startled and its claws flick out. A few seconds later there's a scream. _Boom! _Looks like the mutts got someone. First there's the girl from Four. Then the girl from Five, both from Six, girl from Seven, both from Eight, girl from Nine, boy from Ten, boy from Twelve, a slight jump and then the girl from One. A time of death is displayed as well, and the One girl has the latest, so she's who the birds got. I hear running below. Looking down, my fears are confirmed. The Careers are here. I can't eat at all, not the groosling because it's raw and not the dried meat because it will crinkle and alert the Careers that I'm here.

"Let's sleep under this tree. None of the damn brutes 'ave turned up, so we need a guard in case they jump us, horrible weensy twigs."

"Especially the Eleven chick. She's looking fun. I bags her. I know just what I'll do." I think that was Agata.

"Fine, as long as I get Nine."

"Right by me."

There's loads of scuffling and finally they slump to the ground. Agata is on guard. I doze off, hoping by hope they won't see me.

And then I dream.


	8. Chapter 8

8

After midnight I scamper down the tree and slip away from the sleeping Careers. After about two hours of walking I try to climb another tree but I don't have enough energy. I have no water. I'm dehydrated and my tongue feels like a strip of sandpaper. I have not been able to urinate at all since I entered the arena. I catch a little of the eternal rain in my mouth and luckily it appears to only affect eyes. I try to fill my bottle but can't, as my arms feel like rubber and won't lift the container. I stumble a little further and drop from exhaustion to the ground.

I wake to a shout of glee and flinch as I see Agata standing over me.

"Ha!" Agata crows. "You're getting sloppy, District Eleven. Footprints!"

My voice betrays me and I squeak;

"What are you going to do to me?"

She snarls at me; "Oh, you won't like it, but it'll be fun."

After hauling me back to the Cornucopia I'm pinned down by Agata. She kneels on me. She takes a sharp, iron blade from her belt. It looks like a really fancy cheese knife, and my stomach does a little scream and runs across the wet muddy plain, leaving me behind. Agata suddenly pulls my skirt up to my neck, and I want to let out a childish squeal because no doubt I'm on camera. She digs the knife in and I feel like someone's touched me with a fiery hot poker. I screech as she cuts a neat circle. She begins to carve patterns in my skin, and I howl in pain, I cry out until finally I don't have enough energy to grunt, let alone yell. My eyes fill with tears but I keep them in. The patterns would actually be quite pretty apart from the red seeping over my dark skin. The sky seems to blur and go dark.

I wake up to the sight of a perfect crescent moon. The sky has no stars at all and my goggles, which were mercifully left on, are blurred with rain. My skin is on fire, and I wonder where Agata picked up this barbaric way of hurting people. Every drop of rain sends another jolt of agony through me. I fumble with blood-soaked fingers that feel about as manoeuvrable as sausages and manage, with a lot of pain, to move my dress back over my body. Despite the soft texture, it stings a little but I ignore it, dragging myself about a metre before I can go no further. My body roars at me as I try to reach my pack, which they have thrown aside. I can see the white bag standing out against the darkness. For the first time, my ears register a crackling, and when I painfully turn my head I see the six Career tributes gathered around a roaring fire. No tribute is mad enough to attack them, even though they must all know the location. I turn back to my pack. How much I need it. My eyes slide shut as I stare at it.

I wake again to splattering footsteps. The Careers are all asleep, their fire nothing but coals. My pack's strap lifts then the whole bag appears to float upwards. It takes me a bit to realise someone is picking it up. I want to call out, to stop them taking it, but all that comes out is a strangled croak. The face of the person taking my bag turns my way, and the moon lights half their face and two luminous grey eyes behind goggles stare at me. It's a girl, I know that much. She slings my back over her shoulder and walks toward me. I croak again, this time in fear. Surely this tribute will kill me. I am shocked as she touches my arm, flinches at the feel of the blood, then picks me up and gently carries me away. The moon reflects off something strapped to her back, secured by studs on a sash-like strap across her chest. I weakly lift my hand to feel it. Bamboo. My rescuer is Myrae.


	9. Chapter 9

9

When I return to consciousness next, the sun is up. By the looks of it, I missed sunrise by about an hour. Something is different. With a shock, I realise that the pain of Agata's barbaric torture is gone. Completely. This isn't natural. I lift my head to see a figure sharpening a spear. A long staff is strapped to her back and a gleaming badge picturing a black stone trailing flame. It's Myrae. I groan a greeting and she looks up.

"Good morning, District Eleven. How 'ya feeling?"

I try to say okay, but a grunt comes out instead. I clear my throat and try again. "Okay."

"That's good. My sponsors, or yours maybe, sent me some sort of ointment. I tried it and you made a sighing sound, so I covered you in it."

I notice a dead-straight, thin burn on the side of her face.

"What's that?"

She absently lifts a hand to the burn.

"The sabotaged gift. I opened the wrong one first, so a little ball of flame, about the size of a marble, shot out and hit my face."

"Ow."

"Pretty much."

"How long have I been out?"

"Erm... I was sent sedative. They didn't want you to wake up too early in case you re-opened your wounds with movement. It's been four days."

"_What?_!" I shout. A mockingjay erupts from a nearby tree in alarm.

"I know, but I had to. You would have killed yourself. I had to take care of you, and you awake wouldn't help much at all. Talk with your mentor afterward if you've got a problem."

"Who's gone?"

"Well, the Three boy drowned in one of the lakes, and the Seven girl was killed by the Two girl after she managed to overpower the Four girl, who was on duty. Poor Aurora. She was starving, I know that much. She must have tried to steal something. There are nine of us left. You, me, the One guy, Agata and Boris, the Three girl, the Eleven guy, the Five guy and the girl from Nine."

We are silent. Only nine. So many dead. After a while I speak up.

"Thank you for rescuing me, Myrae. You could have left me to die and taken my supplies, but you didn't. Thank you."

"I couldn't have done that. It's what the Games do. They turn us all into savage, selfish, mindless killing machines. I'm not one of those. I'm not going to leave a thirteen-year old girl dying in the mud for the sake of my own skin. It costs more to kill someone than it does to die yourself, Gardenia."

She called me Gardenia. That's the first time she's done it. I am speechless because there is no reply to something like that. She begins to prepare a meal. Looking at my groosling, she has no choice but to throw it out, because it's gone bad. She adds her dried fruit to my dried meat. She hands me a half of a coconut shell filled with fruit and meat, and hands me my water bottle, which to my joy has been filled by Myrae. The rain must indeed be safe to drink. We eat and drink in silence.

After about a minute, Myrae asks in a voice an octave lower than normal;

"So, got any weapons, District Eleven? What're you good at?"

Swallowing, I answer; "I've only got my three... oh, rats." I've lost one of my claw-knives. "Make that _two _claw-knives and a handmade sling. I'm pretty good at archery, and there is an unclaimed bow and quiver in the Cornucopia, but the Careers are nearby. I'd never have gotten in alone."

She winks. "There are two of us now. I've got a plan."

Half an hour later, we're ready. Myrae has revealed a rope she got from the Cornucopia. We return to the forest near the tail of the Cornucopia, wait until all but one of the Careers leave and set up the equipment. The ground is slippery from rain and water whips our faces but Myrae has goggles too so the rain won't burn either of our eyes. Myrae ties the rope to the centre of her staff and puts it behind two trees that are close together.

"The staff won't fit through the gap, so if I let go, you won't fall." She explains. Then she takes the other end of the rope and gives me her sash, tightening it to fit me. She then ties the rope around the back of the sash. She nods.

"If you hear any screaming, that'll be me." She murmurs with a straight face. I fight off the giggles and I climb a tree. A metre jump to the Cornucopia. One... two... three! And I leap. My shoes make a thud as they connect with the golden surface and I lay flat as the guarding Career turns. Putting it down to a falling branch amongst the pelting rain, he turns away again. I sneak to the front and tug the rope. It tightens and I lower myself down. I undo the rope. I am now out of sight, as the Careers have built a wall out of supples to stop intruders from stealing the weapons. I slip forward and see the bow. I take a knife from the pile next to it, clipping it to my belt, I pick up two of what appear to be throwing stars and take them too, as well as a dagger. Then I lift the bow. It's a little shorter than half my height and mahogany brown, a silver swirling pattern on the front. One end seems sturdier, and I realise it acts sort of like a club for close-quarter fighting. I take the rectangular quiver and click the five studs to the back of my belt. Now it's on an angle, easy to retrieve arrows but stopping them from falling. I take out one arrow and look at it. The shaft is brown and the fletching a silvery blue. The arrowhead is razor sharp. I slide it back into the quiver, return to the mouth of the Cornucopia and retie the rope. Before I signal Myrae to pull, I slide three packets of dried meat and a box that could hold anything into my bag. It's all that will fit, and the box is in danger of falling out. I tug twice on the rope and Myrae begins to pull. Then it all goes wrong.

My knot mustn't have been tight enough, as it slips undone and I plummet, slamming into the wall of supplies and toppling it with a massive crash into the mud. The guard's weapon, a wicked-looking poniard, jumps into his hand as he turns and charges, roaring, at me because I'm exposed. I nock an arrow and I shoot at him, but panic forces my arrow to miss. He is upon me when a whistling and a thunk echoes. He slumps and I realise Myrae, bo staff in hand, has rescued me again. She grabs my hand and the poniard from the unconscious Career and we flee, leaving chaos behind us as the Careers, alerted by the guard's yells, return. They howl as we run. Although I lose the box I took through the zip that I didn't close properly on my bag, we escape unseen.


	10. Chapter 10

10

We flop panting to the ground, exhausted. I can't hold back a slight laugh of joy. The bow is mine! And ninety percent of the Careers' food is ruined by the mud. The rain has finally come in handy for something other than water. Myrae sits up, gasping but smiling.

"You idiot. I..." she coughs a little, "_told _you to tie the knot properly. And" she coughs again, "_what _do you go and do?"

I open my mouth to reply.

"You go and _totally make this fun!_" she laughs. I giggle and we straighten. Myrae coughs again.

"Are you okay?"

"Asthma." She hacks. "I'm good. It's not serious." We force away the laughter.

"Now, let's see how good you are." Myrae slowly and awkwardly climbs a tree and I can't help thinking '_Amateur' _as she wobbles and plucks a handful of fruit.

"Now, don't eat these, because they're poisonous. I'll throw and you shoot, okay?" she calls as she climbs down. I nod and nock three arrows as her boots hit the ground. She pegs three yellowish, round pieces of fruit right after each other and I shoot in rapid succession, spearing all three. The fruit spurts a yellow juice that fizzles like acid. I load another few arrows into my bow as she throws another three. I hit two but miss the third because a wall of rain, blown by the sudden wind, blows into my face as I'm aiming and I release the arrow in shock.

"Oopsie. Gotta work on that." I mutter. The sound of stretched elastic drifts to my left ear. I turn quickly. There's a snap and I see a large rock, the size of a fist, shooting towards Myrae's head. If it hits her, she'll be killed, or get a concussion at the very least. I lunge and shove her aside. She cries out as we fall and land with a splash in a puddle. A shape steps out of the trees. To my shock, I see it's Alexei.

"What are you doing?" I shout as he pulls another stone back in his sling, twice the size of the one I made.

"I have to." he whimpers.

"That's right, isn't it?" calls a low, mocking voice. A male tribute I think is from District Five steps forward. I growl, stand up and nock an arrow, ready to shoot it into his stomach. Beside me, Myrae straightens and takes her spear from her back.

"You won't attack me," continues the tribute, enjoying our shock, "because the second you do, my partner will shoot a crossbow bolt into Alexei's brain, killing him. Then she will shoot Myrae in the spine and you, Gardenia, in the throat. What you _will _do is give me your weapons, food, packs and goggles. Then maybe I will not kill you."

I hiss angrily, looking for a way out. I lift the bow, pretending to aim at the District Five boy's head. I hear what I was listening for; the click of a crossbow bolt ready to fire. I now know where this tribute's accomplice is. I spin as fast as I can and let fly with the arrow I loaded before, shooting a few metres to the right of Alexei. There is a gasp, then a dull _shunk _and a thud. I wonder what the 'shunk' noise was. A cannon booms and I know I have hit the accomplice. At the same time, Myrae hurls her spear into the Five boy's stomach. Another cannon fires. We beat them! I turn to Alexei, to see if he is hurt, and my stomach drops out of me. He is curled up, a crossbow bolt lodged in the top of his spine. I drop to his side.

"Alexei! No!" I gasp. He croaks an answer.

"You have to beat everyone now, you know. Since I can't and all."

"No...no. Please. Not like this. Don't go. What about Hazel?" I beg. Hazel is his sister. He has protected her all his life.

"Tell her... tell her I love her." he whispers. Then something leaves his eyes and there is a small beep from his arm. A second later, the cannon blasts. I look at his arm. A red light has flashed where the tracker was; it must have registered his vitals flatlining and signalled both the cannon and the hovercraft that will soon arrive. I choke away a sob and blink back tears. A few metres behind and to his right, the girl from Nine lies, her green dress soaked with blood and an arrow sticking out of her throat. Myrae crosses to her and takes the crossbow and the sheath of bolts, shoving them in her pack, which is now full to the brim. I look at Alexei's token; a snow white eagle feather pinned above his ear. I snap off the clip and pin it under the burgundy flower clip above my own right ear. The tip is stained with blood, where it must have trailed in his wound. I stand silently. Myrae is speechless. I pluck a single white flower and arrange his hands so they are clasped over it. It is the traditional way of saying goodbye in my district. Together, Myrae and I walk away.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part III: The Escape**

11

We settle next to one of the many lakes, and night falls. I am numb as the anthem plays. Faces appear. The Five boy, the Nine girl and then Alexei. His face shines, the same slight nervous smile, the same nut-brown eyes, and then the light winks out just like the real Alexei did. Myrae moves closer and puts an arm around me. A curious waterfowl flutters up, and I shoot it, pinning it to a tree. We build a pile of wood and Myrae lights it with some matches she took from the Five boy. I don't care if the Careers come, attracted by the smoke. I'm ready to shoot. The rain isn't strong enough to put out the fire at the moment, but it may well be soon. After I apply more of the special ointment on my cuts, we cook the waterfowl and are about to eat when a box attached to a sliver parachute drifts down. I catch it before it falls in the fire. There are two lids. One of them, I know, is sabotaged. But which one? I open the right one and a small ball shoots out and explodes, setting fire to my dress and singeing my hair. I quickly douse it in the lake and thank my lucky stars that the burns aren't too bad. I open the other and there is a box full of vegetables, and a potato. They're all boiled, but taste delicious after a week in the arena eating dried meat every day. I can taste a little garlic and it reminds me of my Nonna's vegetables when she was alive; how she always bought garlic because it made everything taste nice. I remember something Loki did when he was messing around, and I turn and blow on Myrae's face.

"Pwah! Garlic breath!" she exclaims, and we collapse into giggles. I guess we're so petrified of what may well happen that we're out of whack. Once we finish eating, we climb a tree and talk quietly awhile before going to sleep. Myrae lies on a branch close to the ground, while I choose one as high as I can. Before I lay down, I secure my belt to a convenient, short limb beside my head, looping it around and tying it so tight that it grips the branch. I click my quiver on, my throwing stars, my knife and my dagger. They hang, ready for me to take with me. I hang my bag on the same branch, and then use a length of Myrae's rope to secure myself. As I drift off, I think of Alexei, and I know I will avenge him.

I yawn as I wake up. The sun is trying to shine through the clouds as the rain keeps pouring. If I win this thing, the first thing I'm going to buy is a personal roof. I hate the rain and I hate the cold and I hate the Hunger Games. I slide down the tree to Myrae's branch and then tap Myrae on the arm. She grumbles as she lifts herself. Obviously, she's not a morning person. How strange that such a trivial habit can stay in this place. We both eat what's left of the water fowl and the vegetables, then leave. We trek upwards for quite a while, and I slip in the mud twice. We reach the highest point in the arena within three hours. The place is shaped like a giant bowl and we're at the edge. Stopping us from fleeing is a massive wall of what look like tangled vines. This system works. Tributes have hacked and burned and climbed and they simply cannot get through. They aren't ordinary vines. They used to use force fields but Katniss Everdeen, the tribute known as the Mockingjay, blew out the entire arena in her second Games, so it was scrapped and replaced with this. My right ear picks up the sound of rushing water and I beckon to Myrae. Soon we find a large, fast-flowing river. We fill our water bottles and drink as much as we can. Myrae takes out the poniard from the Career's guard and spends a while cutting a huge piece of wood from a nearby tree. When she finishes, she spends a while scraping out some of the wood, then thrusts the poniard twice through the edges and strings rope through the holes. She opens her pack and takes out a sleeping bag! I didn't know she had a sleeping bag! She mustn't have felt right using it while I didn't have one. She lines the curved bottom of the wood with it. Then she drags her contraption close to the river and I see that she has actually improvised a sled!

"We make similar ones in my district. This place is gruesome enough, we should have some fun. Don't call out though; you'll attract other tributes."

"Are you _actually _suggesting we...?"

"Yep, sled down the river!" She hacks off a long branch, then sits in the sled and ties herself in with the rope.

I hesitate.

"Isn't this ridiculously stupid?" I ask.

"Yep. That's why we're doing it. Better to die having fun than to be killed by the other tributes." She answers.

"Glad you have such an optimistic view of our future." I mutter, and tentatively sit in the sled. I go to tie up my knot, but Myrae twists round and does it for me.

"After last time," she explains.

"Wait. I'll put my quiver in my pack first so I don't lose any arrows." I twist the quiver and pull the studs out. I stick it in my pack and let Myrae know I'm ready. I cannot believe that we're doing this. She must have lost her wits entirely.

She uses the branch to pull us into the river and I gasp as the sheer strength of the river pulls us in. We speed down the waterway and I squeal as the sled hits a rock and we end up backwards for the next few metres. Myrae slams the branch into the riverbed and we turn back around and continue the right way. I find myself laughing; this is so ridiculously stupid. The spray clouds my goggles. We hit a spot like a miniature waterfall and soar, then splash back into the river. The current slows and Myrae dangles her hand in. I twist my dagger 180 degrees and pull the clip off of the stud. I stab a medium sized fish with it and pull it inside the sled. I hit Myrae in the back of the head with the fish and laugh. As I stuff it in my pack, the current speeds up again and we soar over another mini waterfall. Then I shout as I see a huge rock arcing out of the river like an iceberg. Despite Myrae's efforts, we hit it and a long crack splits the sled not quite in half.

"Fun time's over," Myrae exclaims and pulls out the sleeping bag and quickly undoes both of our ropes, stuffing them into her pack. She dives out of the fast sinking sled. I panic. How could I let Myrae take me on this death ride when I can't swim?


	12. Chapter 12

12

"Myrae!" I shout, struggling to stay afloat as my packs drag me down. "I can't swim with all this weight!" I see her eyes widen and she ploughs back towards me. I am swept under and I panic. Bubbles explode from my mouth. My head smacks into a rock and I feel woozy, but I fight off the need to faint. Then a hand grabs my wrist and pulls me to the surface. It's Myrae, of course, and she drags me to the bank. I walk a few wobbly steps, then the black spots clustering at the edge of my vision rush in and my knees fold.

When I wake, a large fire is going and I'm lying next to it. The rain is threatening to put it out. I sit up and I see Myrae looking concerned as she sorts the packs and prepares a meal. She's stuck an arrow through the fish I caught and it's roasting over the flames. Myrae turns and sees me, then asks if I'm alright. I answer that I'm fine. I belt my weapons back on. Lucky the quiver was in my pack, or I would have lost all my arrows. Taking it, I click in the five studs. My pouch of stones is still intact, as is my sling. Most of the food, bar one pack of dried, salted meat and the fish, is ruined. We have to eat all of it tonight because the fish alone won't sustain us. Once the fish is done I cut it up with my knife and pull out most of the bones. I hand half to Myrae and she gives me some salted meat. We eat and I lick my fingers once I'm done. We climb a tree and tie ourselves in, the same way as last night, and look at the sky as the anthem plays. No-one's died tonight. The audience will be getting restless. I slowly drift off to sleep.

I wake with a fright to a fanfare of trumpets. It's Danus Allomola, the announcer of the Games, and he's calling us to a feast at the Cornucopia. Myrae is awake as well, and when the announcement finishes we turn to each other.

"We can't go. It's too dangerous." Myrae says instantly.

"We can't go to the feast itself. It's just us and the Careers. They'll need it because I accidentally destroyed their food when I tipped it in the mud. What we can do is hide nearby and I'll shoot at them."

"Ah. But you won't hit all of them." She replies.

"I expect we'll be able to hit one each, and then run. Shall we do it?"

She considers.

"Yes. We'll shoot."

We run through the rain and reach the place where I climbed to get the bow. We use the same system to get on top, and lay flat on our stomachs, where we can't be seen. Myrae takes out the crossbow and a single bolt. I pull an arrow, load it in and draw the string. Myrae pulls back the bolt and it clicks, then she puts her finger on the trigger. The Careers have moved their camp, obviously, since we knew where to find it before. Soon the Careers emerge from the trees, goggles on, and they are all holding weapons. Boris holds an enormous claymore, Agata clutches a double-headed axe in hands covered with chain-mail backed gloves with iron talon-like attachments on them, the Two boy has a hatchet in each hand and the Three girl is holding a wickedly curved sickle. They move forward as a table emerges from the ground with a large cover over it; it is laden with food. They break into a run toward it.

"Three...two...one..." Myrae hisses, "...now!" She pulls the trigger and I release my arrow. The Two boy falls with my arrow protruding through his throat. The Three girl drops with a crossbow bolt emerging from her forehead. Two cannons blast. We slide down away from the lip as Boris and Agata look for their assailants. We slide down the rope and Myrae undoes it and we flee. There's a roar of anger as they realise who has slain their companions. We run further and further away, ignoring their howls.


	13. Chapter 13

13

"Myrae!" I pant. "They're chasing us!" Sure enough, Boris and Agata are sprinting after us. They're faster, too. I pull an arrow and fit it to my bowstring, ready to shoot. Myrae throws her crossbow aside and unclips her bo staff while running, as we prepare to fight. I spin and let my arrow fly. Boris grunts and curves away. The cannon fires. I skewered him in the stomach. Agata shrieks in fury and runs faster. Myrae swings the bo staff and hits her, and she staggers. We run towards the edge of the arena, Agata in hot pursuit. Soon the wall of vines comes into view. Agata lunges forward, swinging her axe at Myrae. I cry out, but Agata must want to kill us some other way, because she hits Myrae with the flat of the blade. The blow knocks Myrae off her feet and she slumps, unconscious.

I scream as Agata throws herself at me, and she rakes the claws on her gloves down my face. It's like lines of fire have ignited. I swing the heavy part of the bow and there's a dull _thunk _as it hits her in the head, but she doesn't fall. I lunge at her and rip away her axe, throwing it into the woods. She swears badly, knowing that if she goes for it I'll be able to shoot her. She throws herself at me and I fall under her weight. A stream of curse words flow from her tongue as I punch her, but I've never had a strong punch. Agata flexes her clawed fingers and pushes them into my stomach, and I screech and knee her between the legs. She curses and falls back, her gloves coming free from my stomach. Eight puncture wounds where she drove them in are leaking blood over my front. I take the throwing stars I thought I'd never use and throw them with a flick of my wrist. One hits her hand and the other stabs her collarbone. She swears the 'f' word and pulls them out, blood flowing. She turns and I flick my knife at her, and it cuts her forehead. She looks murderous. She takes something from her belt. My stomach quivers. It's the same knife she tortured me with, and it's still caked with my blood. I yell and duck as she throws it, and it slices through the vines cleanly.

Through? I have no time to think as Agata is coming at me again. She hisses in fury and I take my dagger from my belt and try to cut her. She grabs my wrist and squeezes, and I gasp and drop it. She smiles and comes closer. I have one weapon left- my sling. I pull the sling from my belt and slip my hand into my pouch, grabbing the biggest rock. She sees it and laughs.

"Oh no, the ickle fwightened bubby gonna chuck a pebble at me!" she sneers. I ignore her and spin the sling, gathering momentum. Then I flick the wood and the stone sails.

I see its shape clearly for the first time. It may just be me, but it looks like a mockingjay.

She laughs. She's still laughing when the stone's long, sharp, beak-like tip spears between her eyes. She slowly falls backward, hitting the ground with an almighty thud. The cannon booms. I walk to Agata and take all her weapons and supplies. She's got a longbow, which I ignore, but I take the arrows, which are the same as mine, and I refill my quiver, which now has thirty arrows, and sling Agata's over my shoulder. I estimate that the second one's got about twenty-five. I take my dagger, knife and throwing stars from the ground and clip them to my belt. I see the stone I used to kill Agata. It must have been deliberately sculpted to look like a mockingjay. There's even a small eye and markings for feathers. The long beak has snapped off inside Agata's head. It reminds me of myself. The small mockingjay, struggling to keep flying. Wounded but victorious. I hold it and look at its missing beak. I notice a fault line that's not visible on the outside. I scrabble around on my belt and find my knife. I use the blade to pry open the fault, and it opens like a box, hinged at the tail. Inside it, a pure gold pin gleams. My eyes widen. This is impossible. Inside this stone, hidden in the rainy arena of the 100th Hunger Games, mistakenly picked up by me, is the mockingjay pin of Katniss Everdeen.


	14. Chapter 14

14

The rain pelts down as I stare. It's just not possible. We were told that the mockingjay pin was lost with Katniss' body, and that all replica jewellery was destroyed. It could be a fake, but somehow I know it's not. I realise that this was the Capitol's way of gloating. Place the symbol of the resistance leader in the middle of what she was fighting against. They didn't think anyone would take it; and when I did, they were confident I wouldn't discover its secret. I lift the badge out reverently and stare at it; then I pin it to my own dress. I will do this, and I will do it with Katniss' pin with me.

I go to Myrae and shake her awake, giving her the rest of Agata's weapons, including a hatchet, a stake, the axe and a few knives. I take her to the barrier.

"It's just us left now, Myrae, and I won't kill you. Look at these vines." I show her. There are little fault lines, that look like the sections in bamboo. "Cut the lines. We'll be able to escape. Keep your weapons ready, because the Gamemakers will realise we're about to escape and try to stop us. I take Agata's sword and I swiftly cut three of the fault lines. We soon realise that the fault is in a hexagonal shape, and we cut out the faults. We're just about to finish when a crocodile with fangs as long as my arrows lunges from nowhere; but it was hastily made; we defeat it easily. We cut the last fault and stride out of the arena. All around us, there are woods. I look at Myrae. Out here, there are no sponsors, no new allies. She nods, and as an alarm goes off, we run for freedom, the mockingjay badge gleaming with my mockingjay necklace. I will be the new Mockingjay. Gold and silver. I will carry on Katniss' legacy. She will not have died in vain.

**-END OF BOOK FOUR-**


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